


you don't have to say anything (especially not goodbye)

by Nakimochiku



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x18 Scene Rewrite, Coda, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27485956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nakimochiku/pseuds/Nakimochiku
Summary: “Cas, whatever you’re tryna say, whatever you’re thinking… just, don’t okay?”or, Dean actually has something to say about Cas' confession
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	you don't have to say anything (especially not goodbye)

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST CAN'T BELIEVE HE LEFT HIM ON READ OKAY.

Dean’s mind is whirling. No, he thinks fiercely. _No, you can’t, not again._ But his throat is locked up tight and his head is pounding, his ears are ringing and he doesn't know how to say _if this is the only other option then I'm fine with letting her in right now and just going out together_. 

Cas’ face is so soft. His eyes are so big and wet. They have always been soulful, looking too deep, too hard, seeing so much. Dean’s resented those eyes. He resents them now, as they prick passed his skin, the hard set of his mouth, the heat of his eyes trying to glare this all away like Cas didn't just pluck all the old dusty boxes under the bed in Dean’s mind and rattle them until something jarred loose, the way he always has. Cas’ big soft blue eyes peer in and just know, like always. 

“Don’t.” He manages to choke as Cas reaches up one broad bloody palm and lays it against his cheek. “Cas, whatever you’re tryna say, whatever you’re thinking… just, don’t okay?”

Behind them Billie thumps away on the door, single minded in her quest. Dean can't hear the thumping at all over the hurricane of blood in his ears and the thud of his heart in his throat. Cas smiles sweetly. It’s like glass in his chest. “I need to say this, Dean. I understand it makes you uncomfortable. But you need to hear me say it properly. Just once. You need to remember hearing me say it.”

“Don’t,” Dean repeats, but it sounds like a death knell, it sounds like a lock being picked open, it sounds like nails on a coffin lid. _Never ask for whom the bell tolls—_ “If… if it’s that important you gotta…” he swallows, licks his lips because suddenly his mouth is so dry. Cas’ hand is hot and distracting on his face. “You gotta stick around so I can hear it right?”

Cas smiles, even softer and wetter than before. “Oh Dean.” He murmurs, and chuckles a little. It's a broken little sound. He examines Dean’s face as though memorizing it, thumb stroking the ridge of his cheekbone. “No.” He says firmly, but he doesn't move, not away, not closer. “I wish I could say this every day, until the time came that you believed me. Every hour if you needed it. And I'm sorry that I can't stay. I’m sorry I never said it clearly before now.”

Fear opens a pit in his stomach, fills him with ice cold water, a rush of twisting anxiety knotting up all his organs. “Cas, please—" he manages, he’s going to break open _please no not again not again not again._ “You could—"

“Dean, you are a good person.”

A wounded animal sound is wrung from his chest before he can even think to stop it, and the words ride even heavier on the tail end of Cas’ tearful _I love you._ This he says firmly, looks deep in his eyes and expects to cow Dean with the full weight of heaven behind him, _you should show me a little respect_ , and Dean can’t hold eye contact can’t believe him can’t, “Cas—"

But Cas just shushes him, like comforting a child afraid of the dark, tugs him forward, a smear of blood on his cheek. His touch is like being tucked in warm and safe again, being reminded that nothing can get him, he doesn’t need to worry, _angels are watching over you._ Dean bends to him, feeling so watery and weak he can’t resist the gentle guidance. Cas’s dry pink lips press to his forehead, warm and plush, a little chapped, but they press there like Dean will understand all the other things he’s left unspoken, like _I love you_ barely scratched the surface. They stand there a moment, and Dean breathes through his mouth, struggling not to sob, tasting the faint remnants of Cas’ aftershave and laundry detergent, Cas' breath hot in his hair. He wants to say Cas is so very cruel, so ruthless, to give him this now at the end of all things. But Cas’ lips move in a whisper, _I love you_ , and he presses his mouth in a little harder, like a blessing, like affection. Then he pulls away. He rests his bloody palm on Dean’s shoulder, grips hard enough to bruise. 

“Goodbye Dean.”


End file.
